No One Saves The Damned
by Computerfreak101
Summary: After he is banished by Yami no Malik, Bakura runs into Mai, who is weak and desperate from her “punishment”. She begs Bakura to help her, and Bakura tells her why no one will.


Compy: Hi. As most of you know, most my favorite pairings in the YuGiOh fandom include Bakura with almost any girl on the show, except Tea and Rebecca. My newest obsession…Conceitshipping, which is Mai x Bakura. But **no**, this is not a Conceitshipping fic. It's something I've had in my head for a while, and this latest pairing craze has finally motivated me enough to write it. I hope you like it, I certainly do.

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING. But I wished I owned Kura…

**O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.**

"Don't you realize that I _am_ the darkness?"

"What does that mean?"

He could feel himself slipping away as the Shadows engulfed him. He only faintly heard Malik's screams as the flames of a God consumed him; he just kept his eyes locked with Yami no Malik's, giving his opponent a sneering farewell.

"It's quite simple; I can't be destroyed." And with those simple, yet cryptic words, Bakura's soul was banished to the Shadow Realm, leaving the Millennium Ring to fall hollowly to the ground.

**O.o.O.o.O**

It was hard to tell how long he had his eyes closed, or when he opened them. Maybe his eyes had been open all along, or were still closed. Whatever the reason, Bakura soon found himself staring into utter blackness, the kind that could only be produced by the realm of darkness. He made a disdained sound in the back of his throat, turning his head to view the surroundings, or in this case, lack of.

"Well, this is irritating," he murmured. Angrily, he shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking forward. That was really the only thing to do in the Shadow Realm; walk around, or stay where you are, a defenseless, perfect meal for the demons lurking in the shadows. Bakura's mind was not on the monsters though; he was too busy cursing Malik's darker half to every hell he knew. And Malik himself, while he was at it.

When he entered the Battle City Finals, he had a fresh deck, some new tricks, the Millennium Ring and the wonderful use of surprise at his disposal. Now he was stripped of all those things, and banished as well. And no Millennium Rod to show for it. Now was a very evident reminder of why the King of Thieves preferred to work alone. When he thought of the Ring, _his_ Ring, in the possession of that vile _child_…it made Bakura's stomach churn. And until Yami no Malik was destroyed, Bakura was stuck here, alone and powerless.

Well…Bakura fingered the small, round object in his coat pocket. Not _completely_ powerless. But the Millennium Eye was useless to him now; it had been since the day he had stolen it from Pegasus. To use its mind-reading powers he would have to install it and…Bakura licked his lips. No, best not to think of that now. The process and results were too tempting, and Bakura had to remind himself that this was hardly the place or circumstances under which to become the Eye's new owner. No one knew he had it, after all.

Dark, ghostly hands reached out to him, hands he rather _felt_ approaching than seen. He dispelled their touch with a wave of his hand, sweeping his arm to the side in a grand gesture; but to the Spirit of the Ring, it was like shooing away a troublesome fly. While he normally welcomed the shadow's company (He ignored the moans and wails starting to be heard now) he was hardly in the mood to entertain them. Unlike Yami no Malik, he did not have a seemingly endless supply of "food" for them at the moment.

"Ah, what have we here?" Bakura stopped suddenly, mildly surprised at a small area of light only a few feet ahead of him. The soft glow was emitting from a large hourglass, which was rapidly filling with golden sand. It wasn't the shape of normal hourglass though, more triangular, and it took on an azure tinted hue.

"Who are you?" Bakura jumped, suddenly noticing that the hourglass housed an occupant, which could barely be seen as she was halfway buried in the sand. Her long, golden hair blended almost effortlessly with the grains surrounding her, and her alabaster skin matched her prison. Her eyes, heavily lined with mascara, were dull and unfocused, seemingly only two violet pools set into her delicate face.

While mentally smacking himself for being so poetic, Bakura recalled seeing her before. After retracing his memory, he remembered she was one of the eight finalists on the Battle Ship…Mia, Maiana…Mai that was it. Mai Valentine, one of the best female duelists in the world. He didn't remember watching her duel…

_That's because the pharaoh, you idiot, knocked you out,_ he thought angrily, feeling the familiar surge of hatred whenever he thought of that fool. She must have faced one of the Maliks, he realized, for her to be here. His thoughts were interrupted when she repeated her question.

"No one of your concern," he answered, walking closer to the hourglass, aware of the air becoming colder as he did. "Well, my dear, it seems like he got you as well."

"Who is "he"?" she asked. Her voice was so soft, so weak…How long has she been in there, he wondered, noting the rising level of the sand. "Help me…I've been here for so long…I don't even know who I am anymore."

Memory suppression…if Yami no Malik was good for anything, he thought reluctantly, the being was creative. No one used this method of banishment anymore, not that he was aware of. No wonder she looked so frail.

"You remember nothing? Nothing at all?"

"No…" Her voice was a mere hiss of breath, Bakura had to strain to catch it. "I keep seeing…faces. Of people…I think I used to know them. Or they know me, but…I've never seen them before, I'm sure of it. But they seem so familiar…I call to them to help me…but they don't even look, they just walk away…" She was staring at him, once voluptuous hair now lying limp and dead in front of her eyes. "You're the only one…who's come. Please help me…it's so dark and cold…I'm scared."

"As you should be." He made no move to help her, just stood there and watched the sand fall onto her body, covering her more with every second. She'd be buried soon, there wasn't much time left. "This is the Shadow Realm, my dear, where your very nightmares become real, and your fears take form to tear you apart." She shivered, looking at him with terror.

"Help me," she said again, her voice rising. "Please! Help me!" Bakura only smirked, walking over to her, watching her shoulders slump in relief and her eyes glisten with tears. Only to return to her former despair, as he only turned and leaned up against her prison. He crossed his arms nonchalantly, staring into the void ahead.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, my dear."

"Why? You're here, you see me, you're talking to me…WHY WON'T YOU HELP ME?" Her voice rose to a panicked screech, more like the sounds of her Harpies than of a human voice. She pressed her hands against the glass, the only thing that kept her from this strange, yet familiar man, the only one who ever turned her way; her path out of the darkness. Her head dropped, and all too familiar crystalline tears began to roll down her cheeks to disappear into the sand.

"Because," he said, and her head shot up. Bakura took a sadistic pleasure in drawing out the suspense, letting her have hope before destroying it. "Even if I wanted to help you, I can't. You're only hope for release is for the one who put you there to be defeated. Only then can you return to the light, and have all your memories restored. Until then…" He turned to her, a demonic smile ripping his face apart, sharp canines flashing in the light. "You and I are trapped here. For all time."

"No…"

"I don't want you to have any illusions of freedom, my dear. I've been down this road before, so to speak, and there is no chance for you to escape." He pushed away from the glass, turning and placing his own pale, cold-as-Death hand in front of hers. With only glass keeping their hands from touching, he said cold, poisonous words to her that cut deep into her heart, and his smirk only grew while watching her tears fall. "No one is coming for you. No one will help you. They're all in their own perfect world, a world of happiness, warmth and light. Such a thing is beyond your reach now. You meant nothing to them; to those faces you keep seeing in your nightmares. Don't think you'll be saved, my dear. No one saves the damned."

He drew his arm away, unconsciously letting the tips of his fingers linger by hers and turned, walking away. He replied to her strangled scream, "This is Hell, and you and I are the wretched beings chosen to spend eternity rotting in it."

"Come back! Please, come back!"

"It's over, accept it. No one is coming for you, and no one is coming for me."

"DON'T GO! HELP ME!"

He didn't turn back. She kept screaming, pounding on the glass with bruised and bleeding hands, and pleading with him. Wretched words that didn't make sense, even to her, spilled out of her mouth, and more tears fell, faster and faster.

"**HELP ME!**"

But like all the others, he disappeared, and didn't look back.

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Compy: I liked writing this. Well, review please; you know how much Compy loves them!

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If you liked this fic, check out it's sequel, The Sound of Breaking. Hope you enjoy it!


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